Page 18 of Born into Blood

My mom thinks for a second and then nods. “It’s probably good to switch your schedule up anyway. The men who might be watching won’t expect that.”

I give a half-hearted nod of agreement, because I really don’t want to encourage her paranoid thoughts, but I also don’t want to be late for work. Giving her a hug, I remind her that there’s a frozen pizza in the fridge for supper.

“I might be back later than usual. I’m not sure if I’ll have to stay to help clean up.”

“Okay, I’ll watch to make sure you’re not being followed.” She gets back into position by the window while I try very hard to not think about what life would be like with a normal mom. It makes me feel guilty thinking about it. I know my mom can’t help it. It’s not like she wants to be like this, but that doesn’t make it any easier to live with, and it doesn’t lessen my fears of what will happen to her if I ever decide to move out. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life living and taking care of her, but the thought of leaving her like this makes me feel so guilty that I have to look away, because watching her while my head is filled with these thoughts makes me feel like the worst daughter ever.

“I love you, Mom,” I tell her when my skin starts to tingle with the need to cut, and then I leave before she can say it back, needing to breathe in the fresh night air and to push away the claustrophobic feeling that’s pressing down on me.

Not bothering to wait for the elevator, I race down the four flights of stairs and throw open the door to our building, filling my lungs as soon as my feet hit the concrete. The Saturday night traffic is heavy, and the sidewalk soon becomes crowded, but I don’t care. Anything beats being in that apartment with my mom right now. I give a quick glance over my shoulder, but the lights to our apartment are off, and everything looks dark. I know she’s turned them off so she can watch me without it being obvious.

I follow the path that I’d take if I were going to my old job, and once I’m far enough away so I know she can’t see me, I cross the street and join the crowd by the stairs, following them down to the subway. It’s about a thirty-minute commute, but it’s worth it for the tips, and since I’m making so much more money, it probably won’t be long before I can get a used car.

Getting off at the closest subway stop to La Dolce Vita, I blend in with the crowd of people heading to the bars and restaurants on this block until I turn down the alley and speed walk to the back door of the club. The same bouncer is on duty as last night, and when I say a quick hello, he nods but doesn’t bother giving me a smile. Most of the men who work here are very focused on their job and not prone to smiling or laughing or showing a personality in any way, which works just fine for me.

Ignoring the packed main area, I walk over to Marco’s massive frame. When I’m standing in front of him, I tilt my head back, and he surprises me by giving me the barest hint of a smile before stepping aside. “Evening, Lara,” he says with his thick Italian accent. “Gabby’s already up there.”

“Okay, thanks, Marco.”

I squeeze by, expecting to see Dario when I enter the room, but instead it’s a man I’ve never met before. Aside from having hazel eyes, the resemblance to Dario is unmistakable, and I know this must be the brother Dominic told me about.

He's quick to smile and holds his hand out to me. “You must be Lara. I’m Alessandro, Dario’s brother.”

Where Dario is more standoffish, Alessandro is easygoing and laidback in a way that quickly puts me at ease. Some people are just comfortable to be around, and Alessandro is one of those people. He gives me another smile, and the soft lines at his eyes have me guessing his age to be early thirties, and as gorgeous as he and his brother both are, I still can’t shake the pair of beautiful green eyes that refuse to give me any damn peace.

“Tonight’s game should be shorter than last night’s,” he tells me. “One of the regular Saturday-night players usually beats everyone pretty quickly.” Giving me a playful wink, he adds, “That’s why I told Dario I’d take the Saturday shift.”

I laugh, liking Alessandro and finding it hard to believe that he’s in a mafia. Maybe he’s more on the sidelines, I reason, finding it hard to equate the carefree guy in front of me with a hardened criminal. I’m still mulling it over when I say hi to Gabby and start helping her with the prep work. The dealer, who Gabby tells me is Franco, gets everything set up at the table. He’s a quiet guy with salt-and-pepper hair, and even though he hasn’t said anything to me, he still gives me a friendly smile when I meet his eyes. We all work quickly and have everything ready to go before the men start to arrive. Tonight’s a new crowd, but Gabby’s served them before, so while she whispers their drinks to me and I commit them to memory, they get things started.

Alessandro takes his place at the door, and when I look over, his face has completely changed. Gone is the easygoing smile and laid-back demeanor, and in its place is a cold stare, hands clasped behind his back, military style, and every hard muscle in his body taut and ready for action. It’s a night and day difference, and I quickly rethink my stance on him. Looks like he might be more of a hardened criminal than I first thought.

The game begins, and everything goes smoothly. I’m not as nervous as I was last night, and Alessandro is right about this game being shorter. The guy I’ve dubbed Whiskey Sour in my mind wins after only four hours. Even though the game was two hours shorter, they all still tip Gabby and me a hundred each, and the smile I give them is genuine when they file past.

“Nice work, ladies,” Alessandro tells us, back to his laid-back self. He gives us both a friendly wave before heading back downstairs.

“Any plans for tonight?” Gabby asks while wiping down the top of the bar.

“No, not really. I’ll probably grab something to eat and head home.”

“Where do you live?”

I finish washing the cups in the small sink and keep it vague. “I live with my mom in an apartment about thirty minutes from here. How about you? Any big plans for tonight?”

She laughs and gives me a big smile. “Yeah, a long soak in the bath if I get lucky and James has already put Ollie to bed.” Shaking her head, she hangs the hand towel at the end of the bar and says, “Most likely he’s let him stay up way too late and he’s hyped up on fruit juice, so I’ll be lucky to get any time to myself before I crash for the night.”

The smile on Gabby’s face makes it clear she’s not really mad about the idea of Ollie being allowed to stay up late. Her whole world is her son, and she seems thrilled about it. He has no idea how lucky he is to have a mom like her, and I can’t help but be a little envious. Gabby’s never going to put foil on their windows and make him live in the dark. She’s never going to stand by the window, watching for hours while she chews her nails and whispers paranoid fantasies. He’s going to have a good life, the kind I always wished for.

“He’s lucky to have you,” I tell her, surprising her with my words. A smile lights up her face before she pulls me in for a quick hug.

“Thank you for saying that. I’ve fucked up so many things in my life, and I’m desperate to get this one thing right, you know?” She pulls back and looks at me. “Like maybe none of that other shit will matter if I can just be good at this. Ollie’s the best thing I’ve ever done, and even if I’m stuck waitressing for the rest of my life, it won’t matter as long as his cute little face keeps lighting up when he sees me. He’s worth everything, and I want to give him a better life than the one I had.”

She laughs at the way her eyes are getting watery. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually get all emotional like this.”

“You’re doing a great job with him,” I tell her. “I’ve just met you, and even I can see it.”

Gabby pulls me in for another hug, and then straightens up and gets herself under control. “If I’m going to be spending the next hour watching cartoons with an overly tired toddler, then I’m going to do it the right way.”

I raise a brow at her, because I have no clue what the right way is.

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